"levee" poems
through the streets and column cracks
culture weaves and summer smacks
sacred figures, holy shrine
monastery in grand design
cathedrals, convents, heaven’s stars
god of neptune, god of mars
doge’s palace, alley ways
gondolier on full display
winged lions on pastel breeze
cicada singing from the trees
pillar walk of saint mark's square
basilica in all its flare
crosses shade the carousel
a bridge of sigh that leads to hell
golden stairs on placid ridge
arches of rialto bridge
torcello! murano! grigio!
the countess rides the river poe!
sins of seven, fiery hides
poplars bank the levee side
black plague, attila the ***
eden formed before the sun
paradise above the marsh
high alter, gothic arch
middle age, religious wars
celestial fountains, marble floors
sculpted peacock, catholic faith
all is true the great god saith
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 9:24 AM UTC
I want to go back, back to my New Orleans
This place that I call New Orleans is actually Louisiana
But still, the gorgeousness of this dirt and grime
The live oaks stretching over the 6-lane wide streets,
Touching leaftips, making a canopy over the passerbys
Crepe myrtles showering streets with lacy pink faerie dresses
Smells of beignets and seafood fill the French Quarter
Intense, consuming, warm, loving sun burning through your shirt
In New Orleans to say horses sweat, men perspire and women glow
is to be ridiculous.
In New Orleans everyone sweats like pigs.
As for the grime I mentioned, this exists mainly in
the sidewalks cracked by live oaks which make an adventure of every walk down the street
And in any semi-deserted street
To have a Mardi Gras or St. Patrick's Day without a parade and citywide party is to toss aside traditions and the New Orleanian way
The New Orleanians are welcoming, hearty and heartwarming, tough and unafraid to talk to a stranger on the streets.
An old black man once greeted me with 'konichiwa' as I walked past
A middle aged white man once struck up a conversation with us as he realised we had shared the same ferry earlier in the day
An old asian woman conversed familiarly with our family at Cafe Du Monde simply because we are Vietnamese as well
A teenaged white boy waved at us as we drove past him jogging
A different old black man stopped and serenaded my siblings, mother and me with his trumpet just because we smiled
Several young mothers and women have stopped my mother to gush over my siblings and me, usually when we were very small
I, myself, have given directions to a tourist or two, lost near Cafe Du Monde or the levee,
And I hope that the warm smiling spirit of the Big Easy will remain forever immortal.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 7:33 PM UTC
they're saying "all you do is drink and cry", "I think you're bad for everyone" and you're not saying anything and I'm saying I love you,
I ******* love you
And maybe I needed something to bring me back to reality maybe these bathtubs are always a little too deep for me but I fit so perfectly in small spaces because I learned when I was 14 that i was never gonna grow into a butterfly
but my aunt still calls me hers and I'd still flutter my eyelashes on yours while the earth turned to ash because I like things ending so softly
and you are a ******* miracle if I've ever seen one I want to sleep with you so badly, on a trampoline in the summer and I want to watch you do bad things and smile so sweetly at you and you'll know that I don't give a **** what you do as long as you're still loving me while you're doing it because baby we've got this one life and I've been loving you as long as I have known what love is and I know it's in the way you whisper and I know it's in the way you say you're my world and if the world stopped turning tomorrow we'd be the only things still moving with excitement you make me so nervous and calm and nervous and calm and deep breath you make me nervous I bet you'll make me nervous when we're older and I'm making you pancakes and I feel your eyes on me and I burn my fingers but you always kiss them better baby
you're an alleyway and the kitten that sleeps there
you're the rain on the windowpane and the water breaking the levee
I'm drowning in everything I have ever said to you so if I say one last thing one last thing,
while you're not saying anything,
I love you,
I ******* love you
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 8:55 PM UTC
Are you aware,
did you know,
have you been told
you've got killer voice,
leaving me no choice
but preemptive action...
Let's ensure mutual destruction
of clothes;
my thoughts
made those illegal
in a secret meeting;
that security council
in my head...
while the heart was busy beating,
doing its own thing...
Captives in my cells
twisted and bled out
their escape plans...
Excuse me, got sidetracked,
what's your name again?
I'm twenty-three
but only if you switch the digits.
For a high-functioning whatever,
I must say I'm admirably sane
but you pull the wrong lever,
and the lyrics spill with the melody
breaking the levee.
So what do you do for a living?
That's adorable.
How are we still sitting
and talking here?
You thought I'd be taller;
I was expecting you'd run off screaming.
Let's drink to that, the small victories!
Time will tell what's next
if only we listen,
instead of reading more text,
unless we're OK with missing out.
God, my thoughts do talk loud!
When did your face get so near?
Lips go "clink", and eyes go "Cheers!"
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
What She Look Like?
…Like one
tenderly hushing
water in her lap
Elemental peace
No place to go
No more to be
…Like the ocean
in the background
of a photo on a warm spring day
belying
rage
and the random possible
thrash--
out!
at all guilty ******** in her path
Toss in the next sentient soul
who should happen to pass
within range
who should have seen
who should have known
what a storm could do….
Moody in the aftermath
and sorrier than rain
With the tide in retreat
grumbling excuses
Hiding out waist-deep in dusk’s Merlot
Waiting for night to sleep it off
to heal the rifts
cleanse the shame
Rising
yellow, bright— and
“What the hell happened, here?!”
_______________
Her hair
a winter’s tragedy of trees
upside down—
No wait— the wind has put her right
to ragged random branches
swaying, wet with intermittent hues
of dark and silver
caught in collar, flying inelegant and free
at the shoulders of the levee
tossed and softening shyly
sagging jaw and nose a stump of tree
All perspective changes…
if you watch a while—
She’ll raise her eyes
into the sunset
to catch an eagle
entering
flight
…and then you might…
______________
She looks like—
a pudgy robin
querying grass
mud soaked
that hides the fire of her breast
tugging at a worm
more than half her length
“I will feed them, **** you!
Give it up, you son of a snake!”
_______________
...Don’t miss her hour of music though
for anything
Encroaching darkness
from the rooftops
she listens to the hearts she breaks
Remember this in winter
she can give but she will take
it out on February
when you’re longing
for her
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
Katydids and fireflies have the levee tonight
Swat team held the day
There is peace now
and peeping neighbors
emptying horror
among themselves in whispers
left to wonder
‘bout the screaming and the barking
of earlier that day
“Put down your weapon and come out
with your hands up”
Again and again
the demand of surrender
Total
There is no other way
“Let them go!
Come out! come out with your hands up!
It will be okay”
…and he argues in his mind with the shame and loss
…and the shame and "No…it will not be okay"
He had hit her! Hit her with the Gun
again and again…with the gun
Of his demands
The gun of his power
to make her!
The gun of his despair
He had hit her
the dog is barking
His children scream!
“Put down the gun and come out
with your hands up!”
How many more times will they say it!
for all the neighbors to hear
on a loud speaker
Surrender!
in front of his children
Had she cheated?
Had he lost his job?
Could he lose any more to the screaming?
to the "junk"?
to the flashing lights?
to the window's smashing?
Fence run down?
Lobbing
canisters of tear gas
into the room's stinging eyes
where there is no room
where there is no time
"I would never hurt them!
You!
You know!"
"Let them go!"
"You left me!"
“Put down your weapon and come out
with your hands up!”
It is all too loud
It is all too much
as you put the gun against your temple and…
pull the trigger
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 11:11 PM UTC
Inside the drainage basin
Bounding my soul
Fluid dynamics
Condense
Phases of water
Gather in the
Mountain towers
Over time
Gravity plus precipitation
Converts
Into snow pack
Come spring
That snow pack
Braids it's way down the mountain
Co-mingling with groundwater
Bubbling up in springs
Gathering momentum
In mountain streams
A constant conversion from
Potential to kinematic
Energy
Streams make their
Way into prairie rivers
Meandering along
Through riparian pockets
Of biodiversity
Reaching a levee
Then breaching
Local, national, and international boundaries
Are no match
As my soul
Finds it's way to base level
In the ocean of your love
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 7:15 AM UTC
I TOLD THAT ************ TO SWING ON ME,
TAKE A CHANCE
MOTHEFUCKER,
TAKE A CHANCE,
I WANNA GET MY *** KICKED,
LET ME
CHILL HERE ON THE EARTH
WHILE YOU STAND OVER ME,
SPITTING
AND
DISSING.
BUT WHEN I GET UP
IMMA BE MAD
ENOUGH
TO SCREAM
AND ****
IMMA BE
A MANIAC
ON YOUR DOORSTEP,
IMMA BE
A ******
WITH NO CHANCES
WHEN I'VE GOT THREE.
SO WHEN YOU SWING ON ME ************
SWING ON ME
AS YOU TRY AN CALL ME A *****
JUST KNOW THAT IMMA COME AT
YOU
WITH A THOUSAND GRENADES
IN MY FINGERTIPS,
AND WHEN YOU DON'T SWING,
AND DON'T DO ****
I'LL KNOW HOW YOU'RE MADE,
IMMA KNOW THAT ALL THAT **** YOU TALK
IS JUST A MISNOMER.
MY FINGERS GRIP MY HEART
AS MUCH
AS THEY GRIP FISTS.
KNOW THAT IMMA CATCH YOU
WITH A RIGHT HOOK
FULL OF VEINS
AND A MAGAZINE
WITH YOUR NAME ON IT.
CHECK ME,
IMMA HIT UP SOMETHIN TONIGHT,
IMMA BRING MY FISTS
LIKE BURNERS,
MAKE YOU FEEL THE FIRE OF HELL,
CAUSE I'M ON THE EDGE,
AND THIS GIRL ****** UP MY HEART,
MY GRAMMA IS AT THE END OF HER ROPE,
MY MAMA IS STILL POOR,
MY SISTER STILL DOESN'T KNOW HERSELF,
AND MY HOMIES
ARE FAR AWAY,
FARTHER THAN YOU CAN SEE,
SO IMMA CHILL ON THIS PULSATING LEVEE.
Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 11:30 PM UTC
Siddhartha sat steady on a the hearth of an apartment, eyes closed
mouth closed, mind open and enchanted
Zen-man lingers in a dark park starting,
to realise indiscretions of his past lives avatar
(but don't for a second believe the lies you've been fed by the brother of your brother and the father's of the jingoist mafia because eyes blink often and the accumulative effect is a life of temporary blindness and in that blindness it's not possible to be enlightened)
Your mantras are a lie but the belief remains still
and so rolling over wild green hills in some Welsh country village it dawns on the spirits of the ether that humanity is struggling
to find absolution of even the most relative peace
- but so, and Siddhartha still sits, cross-legged and barely breathing
Emaciated; fast, faster
Losing her nerve
Zen-man died a few months back but you always live again and so a beetle on a hot car hood scampers in some intrinsic folly, semi-aware of being something or being at all
Towards the walls of weather-beaten towns the levee finally bursts and all life ends -
until a gathering mist pulls absurd faces in the simpatico rays of a third-eye sun over the bayou of some forgotten rock in the cosmos
and the ethereal temptress of existence rolls the next dice on a green matted board
and our unified oneness speaks a solitudinal greeting to the sky.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
There should be wings of a hundred birds
to churn this scorch with breeze
to dry sweat
shade glare
to soothe the ache
of a post-noon day
There should be varied
and a thousand greens
with all betweens
of innumerable trees
till the blue of sky
blends their deference
And the river heaves its way along
ever on
eternal mission of earth
and...
...Heaven-- sure misses so much some days
Cool remote
Transcended as it be
Replete with rains
and relief of clouds
The Angelus in the distance....
with its affluent affinity for air
Revelers leave their party debris
for those making sure
not a sign is left....
We sort and fold, collapse and pack
Somehow between chairs, tables
cans and bottles, assorted trash
They come--
crouch on the levee
wander and stare
aimless amid tall dry weeds
Inhabit a bench, a moment--
Wild
filtering through our fabrication
Wind to dissipate our purpose
Trees invading abandoned fields
“The poor you have with you always”
“I'm not drunk,”
she drunkenly proclaims
to no one
except maybe….
Leaning over her opened beer
seated on bench adorably painted
with joyful hands
Who fondly held or hoped for her?
Before....
days of dirt troweled a shadow
in the sweat between her *******
Filthy tank that barely covers
derelict denial
How they find themselves established
as we make to leave
WE, of our homes and cars and jobs
and plans of escape
They--
of always
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 11:28 PM UTC
If I asked you what you see in me
Would those rivers
Flow the same
A vessel for to hold the sea
Or a levee for to claim
Would you see walls you can absolve
A tree with no leaves
A riddle
No man could ever solve
Or a truth you can believe
Tell me true, what you can see
When your sky
Is not blue
A web interlacing what cannot be
Or one that ties my heart to you
Would you tell me you celebrate the jewel
You’ve found
For a kingdom of your own
Kept as a keystone
To create a harmonious sound
You cannot compose on your own
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 3:41 AM UTC
Peeling myself off the floor with shaking legs,
My head's spins and my bones feel lead heavy,
I grin through ****** teeth as the question begs,
what happens to the river when you break the levee.
****** knuckles, bent noses, and black eyes.
Dissociation hides behind a smirk and a dimple,
that practiced mask that self loathing buys,
I say I'm getting better, like its ever that simple.
You see I'm an expert at burning bridges,
a true to life true crime social arsonist,
I bathe in jet fuel to clean my stitches,
Just another on fire narcissist.
So leave my mirror be, cause its a cracked reflection,
the bad guy won my mental election,
Please don't trust his smiling inflection,
and save yourself from my infection.
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 6:00 PM UTC
A wandering woman passed me today
And she was wearing your perfume,
Memories flooded my mind
Like a broken decrepit levee.
My emotion was withering away,
And I remembered our lit room,
The laughing and laying without time,
And then my heart grew heavy.
-
Blackened and purged,
You left traceless and a ghost,
A spectre that forsakes the shadows,
I see you when I needn't most.
Your darkened trails
That linger in the frigid mist
Remain spectral and withered,
Waning like the wind, so brisk.
The scent followed me home,
And here I now can't stay,
For pride and self loathing
Have caused all this decay.
I must bring about a solution
For this to be forgotten,
I must hope to breathe a new perfume,
And for happy life to be lost in.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 3:36 PM UTC
One more day is all that I ask
I just want to see the sun set before I pass
The light as it plays off of the river bend
This is weir I want to be burred in the end
Take my hand now mother pleas don't cry
Tell our family that it ends tonight
Pleas tell them that I am going home
and someday we will meet again
I want to go to the river bend tonight
hear the nightingale sing as I look up at the sky
Mother tell Father that I am ok
I will love you both forever and always
I want to go to the river bend
Lay me down to rest
pleas don't levee me till I've breathed my last
And sing the songs of ages past
I am gone to the place weir angels rest
Mother tell my brothers that it is all rite
I don't fear my death a little tonight
I want to pass at the rivers bend
Because as the sun sets and the colors are bright
maybe the angels will find me all rite
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
God, I don't think im ready
my confidence is drowning like a Louisiana levee
I don't feel prepared
and all that comes won't be shared
I don't posses what I feel is mine
I feel like i've forgotten how to rhyme
I'm hungry like im poor
and I keep meeting up with closed doors
But when I go where I go, sometimes I get lost
I get led on and I get forgot
So I approach life anxiously
because I know more pain waits for me
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 4:08 AM UTC
.
As I walk this lonely path
the music plays for me.
Picking at the neat stitches,
the seams of my inner universe.
Somewhere a dam bursts,
a levee breaks, floodgates open.
And vision is impaired by drops
like boulders of rain on a windscreen,
but I have no wiper blades,
just the rims of my wraparounds.
And the music plays on regardless,
ripping through the fabric,
the cushion of my existence.
Control lets go, an illogical absentee.
Millennia creep by as minutes tick.
Sliding through black curtains sight returns,
the shakes pass slowly, rubbernecking shame.
And as the music plays in my head,
I walk the path and treasure the gift
of tears for souvenirs.
© Pagan Paul (2017)
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 5:35 PM UTC
a rewrite of When the Levee Breaks that was inspired by a hideous snowstorm a few years ago
If it keeps on snowing,
Tree limb's going to break
If it keeps on snowing,
Tree limb's going to break
The street is icy and
cars don’t have time to brake
All last night
Sat on the A train alone
All last night
Sat on the A train alone
The train don’t move
And I’m trying to get home
Plowing won’t help you
Shoveling won’t do you no good
I said, plowing won’t help you
Shoveling won’t do you no good
When it keeps on snowing,
Mama, you got to move
Don’t it make you feel bad when you’re trying to get home and you don’t know which way to go
Cause the power line’s down and the wind’s blowing hard and you can’t see which way’s the road
It’s coming down now, it’s coming down now, ooh ooh
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 11:01 PM UTC
Fell through the lion's gate maybe sippin' too much of Mercury's Gatorade. Head all over the space still forcing construction so the levee won't break. I barely leave my mind when I get heavy for heaven's sake. Hard to translate the mental pain when so many seem to exist on different planes. I reside in light and shadow so I know none of this is strange. I've taken off the mask but haven't gotten out the stains. Ego popped up and tried labeling the experience as delirious. Yet I can't recall E existing with long periods of fearlessness. I'm releasing repressed emotion B, cheers - here it is. Time to shed the shell of what was, this is Sirius.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 5:39 PM UTC
We were the stars
We were the that’s not close enough
We were the dizzy spell when we’d stand up too quick
and our favorite colors were black
and really black
We were the spectrum
We were the prom queen and that guy
We were the that guy is in over his head
We were the balance
We were the tightrope walkers
We were the side walk chalkers
chalking up rain checks and forget me nots
We were the discovery channel
We were the sand between our toes
We were the nose goes
playing finger paints on our hearts
We were the hearts
We were the drums
We were the rat ta tat tat
tickling tattoos on our souls
We were the jazz
We were the good fight
We were the fighter and the lover
but I was neither
We were the my girlfriend will kick your ***
We were the first kiss
We were the forefront
and the afterthought
We were the only thought
We were the world
We were the Garden of the Gods
in Colorado
We were the devil
and we didn’t give a ****
We were the levee overflowing
We were the swim
We were the run through the rain with shoes on our hands
We were the last dance handstands
We were the final countdown
We were the 80’s hairband
We were the rock concert
We were the star spangled banner
We were the left hand of Jimi Hendrix
and his guitar strings
We were the good taste in music
We were the bad taste in our mouths
We were the learn to love and be loved in return
We were the optimist in a depression
We were the depression in art
We were the beauty
We were the science teacher that found proof of God
We were the proof of God
We were the class
We were the past
We were the past
We were the past
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
When feelings overload,
and my mind is left a mess,
I look to writing, easing the distress.
My lips are sealed and my heart lies heavy,
that is until, I have released the levee.
©A. Harris 2015
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
The oceans flow and bring with them hope.
The tide comes and washes our sins away.
A means of finding a way to cope.
I hope this waters are calm enough to stay.
A levee is built to hold back the flood.
But still some sediments seep through.
The pollutants build up like contaminants in blood.
Flowing toxins deep inside of you.
I look up for a moment and notice a cloud,
The sky and the ocean are one in the same.
Both with tremendous ability to burst aloud,
While suppressing it's power in a matter that's tame.
I look back down as I drift to sea,
And a smile comes across my face.
I realize that everything within me,
Is a possession of this enchanted place.
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
Your voice is like a silent whisper that I no longer wish to hear
On any given day it breaks me down
like the soft hiss and hush of waves
working to break the levee
I feel your voice speaking from inside my cheeks
It feels like forever
and I still can't seem to shake you from my skin
how I say things the way you used to say them
how I sometimes think about things that make me uncomfortable
and say your name out loud to halt my thought's direction
I ******* miss you
but I don't want to miss you anymore
Moving on is the dilemma for ghosts
Who have nothing left to hold on to
I can't hold your ghost
There are people here who
are still perfectly capable of holding me
And when I see you again
Maybe you won't be able to hold me
Because I imagine
heaven
is energy
I know this in the way my skin still heats up
at the thought of your touch
you move my molecules a fire-friction-engine-rumble
You are energy
and this is how I know you are happy
because there isn't anything else you can be
This is how I know heaven is real
God is a ball of light that feels like a fiery smile when you touch it
But I still hear your voice at night
and maybe your memories creep up
like epiphany shivers
like
oh
This is just me missing you
I am still human
and I am allowed to do silly human things
Because I am alive
and so much self preservation
I haven't let you go yet
Which is why I still hear you
reminding me to do stupid things like take care of myself
and to not hang my head so wrecking-ball heavy
unless I am finally breaking down my own walls
to sucker punch my gut
in order to remind my lungs
that even without you here
the air still tastes so sweet
Reset my suckerpunch
to gasp
to fight for inhale
to understand
that my own breath
still tastes so sweet
I hear you
you silent whisperer
I hear you
Apr 15, 2012
Apr 15, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC
Arguing with disenchanted fractions of lust
Conserved in tributaries of fickle vestibules
Tactical pin ****** tranquilly distribute the crux of all misunderstood and demoralized charlatans
The levee enveloped in a felt like fabric
Dense and coarse
It had a mnemonic quality
Crafting a picture of my childhood bedroom
Mother would be oh so proud
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Hushed in the smoky haze of summer sunset,
When I came home again from far-off places,
How many times I saw my western city
Dream by her river.
Then for an hour the water wore a mantle
Of tawny gold and mauve and misted turquoise
Under the tall and darkened arches bearing
Gray, high-flung bridges.
Against the sunset, water-towers and steeples
Flickered with fire up the slope to westward,
And old warehouses poured their purple shadows
Across the levee.
High over them the black train swept with thunder,
Cleaving the city, leaving far beneath it
Wharf-boats moored beside the old side-wheelers
Resting in twilight.
1.4k